


Not Going To Happen

by JayceCarter



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mutual Pining, Rejection, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:32:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Nora tells Hancock how she feels, but he doesn't react the way she expects.





	

Nora ignored the pain in her chest as Hancock pushed her from his lap. "We aren't like that, sister."

 

"Why couldn't we be?" Even to her own ears, she sounded pathetic. They'd danced around this for months, a tense flirting that never went anywhere.

 

"We just aren't. You and I, we're good friends, but that's it. This-" he waved between the two of them, "ain't going to happen."

 

Nora wrapped her arms around her waist and imagined all the ways she'd thought this would go, and this hadn’t been among them. She and Hancock were close, closer than she'd been with anyone else since waking up. He was her confidant, her shadow, her backbone. Without him, she'd have curled into a ball and given up a long time ago.

 

And she'd catch him looking at her, when he thought she didn't know, the way he'd trace the lines of her body with his gaze, the way he'd subtly adjust his pants and pretend nothing was wrong. So she'd thought one big gesture, that she'd put herself out there, and he'd accept her. He'd give in. The set of his lips told her he didn't plan on giving in.

 

"Why not? I've seen you looking at me."

 

He titled his head and gave her a smile full of snark. "It'd take a blind man to try and said you weren't pretty."

 

"So what's the problem? I don't get it."

 

"It takes more than looks. You and I are friends, that's it. You ain’t my type, Nora."

 

"But, I love you," she whispered, sliding her back down the wall until her knees were against her chest.

 

He hesitated, a pause that said he was thinking about what to do next, what to say next. Nora couldn't focus on any of it, though. Her head spun, her thoughts trying to figure out what had just happened. She'd expected him to kiss her, to admit he wanted her, too. Why hadn't that happened? Sure, Hancock was stubborn when he wanted to be, but he DID care, she knew it. She knew it in the way he held his hand out to hers when she had to jump over debris, or the way he held doors open for her, or the way he bandaged the inevitable wounds. He was careful with her, kind. What else was there? Why couldn't she be good enough?

 

She hadn't been a good enough wife, or a good enough mother. She couldn't protect her family, and they'd all been taken from her. She couldn't even find her son, keep him safe in this damned world. Why did she think she'd be good enough for anyone else?

 

"Look at me." The snap in Hancock’s voice brought her eyes up. He never spoke to her with that tone. He'd always been careful with her. "We need to get this straight, okay? You and I are never going to happen. There are a million reasons why, but we'll leave it at 'you ain't my type,' and I sure as fuck ain't yours. We've got a good thing going, though, and I don't want it fucked up because you think there’s a chance between us. There isn't. There won't ever be. You need to take that truth and dig it deep in you so you don't forget it."

 

He stood before her a stranger, his face distant and foreign. He'd never looked at her like that, never spoken to her like that. She didn't know the man in front of her, the man who stomped on her heart.

 

This wasn't the man who had search high and low for a stupid book for her birthday, because he'd known she'd love it. It wasn't the man who had learned to catch squirrels because the idea of eating roaches turned her stomach. Whoever this was, she didn't like much.

 

Or maybe this had always been him, and she'd been too stupid to realize it.

 

Hancock crouched in front of her, bringing his eyes just above her line of sight. He reached out and tilted her chin up with a single finger. "Are we on the same page? Because you mean to world to me, Nora, but you've got to get this idea out of your head. Now, tell me you don't love me."

 

She couldn't say it. The words wouldn't come together, like they made no sense in that order at all. He could say anything he wanted, but damnit, she loved him. She knew she did. Nora pressed her lips together and shook her head.

 

"Can't say it, huh? Well, you will, trust me."

 

He was up and out of the room before she could respond.

 

Nora sat in the silence of the empty room until she lost track of time. The statehouse had some of the neighborhood patrol in the hallways, but the rest stayed quiet and still. That's why they came back so often, why they rested there. He'd even made this side room up for her, so she had her own place to sleep, to spend time on her own. She didn't have much of her own. Even the settlements she controlled weren't hers, they were the communities.

 

Here though, he'd gone all out. He'd found a nice bed, a dresser, a bedspread in her favorite color of purple. Nora still remembered how happy he'd been to show her.

 

Heavy steps floated past the wall separating her room from his. He must be back, probably pacing and feeling bad for all he'd said.

 

Nora considered letting him stew until morning, letting him suffer. She was sure, first thing in the morning, he'd show up, breakfast in hand, and apologize. She pushed the idea aside, she wasn't the sort of torment people.

 

She'd forgive him the moment she saw him, like she always did, because deep down, she knew he loved her too. He had to. She'd spent years with Nate, before the bombs, and he'd never treated her like Hancock did. It had to be love, even if the stubborn ghoul didn't realize it.

 

Nora got up, her legs stiff and back sore. She dipped her fingers into the can of purified water by her bed and used it to smooth down the hair in her pony tail. He'd seen her at her worst, but she still had the urge to try and look her best.

 

She closed the door to her room, met with his closed door.

 

Strange, he rarely closed his door. Still, doors hadn't meant much to either of them. Privacy didn't have the same demand when you were stuck in such close quarters.

 

Nora opened the door and slid inside, though as soon as she did, she wished she hadn't.

 

Hancock sat on his couch, one arm holding a jet canister to his lips and the other wrapped in the hair of a girl on her knees in front of him. From the bobbing of her head, Nora had no question about what was going on.

 

When Nora's eyes drug away from his lap, to his eyes, he had his gaze locked on hers. His mouth moved, and it took her a moment to realize what he was saying.

 

_"Say it."_

 

Nora swallowed hard, then mouthed her answer back before she slid from the room.

 

*******************

 

_I hate you._

 

The words had haunted John all night. Fuck him for doing that to her. She'd been honest, too, judging from all the pain on her face.

 

What a fucking mess.

 

What had he been thinking?

 

That he needed to save her, that's what he'd been thinking. Nora was too soft, too kind. She didn't belong to his world, but she never saw that. She managed to walk around, to be better than all this shit they lived in, to not be changed by it all.

 

And when she'd been at her weakest, he'd kicked her in the face.

 

Yeah, he loved her. Any moron could see that. He just knew there couldn't come anything from it. Even the idea of touching her turned his stomach, like he'd infect her. He had nightmares some nights, that he'd run his hand along her side, like he wanted to so bad he could taste it. Then her skin would start to dissolve, as if he'd smeared acid on her. She'd turn to nothing, screaming in pain the whole time.

 

That's why they couldn't do this, why he couldn't let her keep thinking that way. He wished it could be different, that they could be more, but he knew his limitations. He was a junkie who fucked anything that said yes. He loved her too much to lay a hand on her.

 

Still, the way she'd curled up into that ball, the way she'd mouthed the words at him before leaving, it hurt. His stomach was nothing but a ball of anxiety and disgust. She hadn't even slammed the door. If she'd screamed, made a scene, maybe he'd have felt better.

 

Not his Nora though. That girl did right till the end. She'd clicked the door closed in a whisper, like she'd never been there at all.

 

And Hancock had sent the woman away. He didn't remember her name; it hadn't mattered. Hell, he'd been limp as fuck while she'd worked him, but his pleasure hadn't been the point. He needed Nora to see him, to see who he really was. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't someone to trust, he wasn't good. She had to see that, and he couldn't think of a more apt way to show her.

 

God, it hurt though.

 

He rubbed his head, trying to get rid of the pain. The sun shone in through the windows, accusing him like everything else.

 

They were supposed to make it to the railroad today. She'd been there before, stumbled upon them with Nicky, but this would be his first trip to the famous HQ. He could let her sleep a few more hours, but the temptation was mostly his own cowardice.

 

Hancock made a cup of coffee, though Nora had set him straight long ago the stuff couldn't be called coffee, and opened her door.

 

Nora, and all her things, were gone.


End file.
